When The Glass Breaks
by Sairo-Rider
Summary: 14 year old, Aiden goes by, and tries to cope with his fears and insecurities. He gets vivid dreams, of things he doesnt want to think are true. Will the boy ever be able to overcome his depression and anxiety, all while dealing with this other side of him?


I'm Aiden. 14 years old. I go to Huddleston Middle School. Next year I'll be in highschool. This is my story.

I woke up from my slumber, then groaned as I held my head in my hands. A deep pain came from the back of my head. It felt as if someone was eating my flesh and breaking my skull with hammers. I learned to suffer with the pain. It had all started, because of that "Incident." The incident I was told, never to talk about. The incident, which took over my life, and pushed my body into hell. The incident, which turned me into an object. The incident, that turned me into a wuss.

Some enough, the excruciating pain faded away. At least I hadn't had the dream again. I covered my eyes from the bright sunlight coming from the window. My room was bright in the morning, but it usually got cold and dark at night. I sat up, and thought for a second. "I can't do this anymore. I just cant.." I thought to himself as my mother walked into the room.

She was most definitely a beautiful woman. She had long blonde hair, which looked like it was perfect yellow silk. Her smile was one of the only things which could make me want to stay here. She walked over to me, and cupped my face into her warm, small hands. She was very petite, and it made me wonder why she decided to be a chef instead of a model. She looked down at me, noticing the despair in my eyes. "I'm so sorry. We're going to make it through this, I promise. Shh.. don't cry Aidi.. I promise." She spoke softly, and it made me comfortable. Too comfortable. Tears slipped through my eyes, despite how hard I tried to hold them in.

I stood up and hugged her, bawling my eyes out on her shoulder. Maybe I was a wuss. The smell of her hair was everything. So soft. It smelled like a field, a certain one we always went to when dad was here. He left after the incident. He couldn't handle me or my mother at that point. He was done. I embraced my mother, for a while longer before she pulled away from me. I sighed softly and wiped my eyes, grabbing some clothes that were on my dresser. "I'm going to get ready. I'm fine." She stared at me, knowing that I still wasn't alright. I walked over to the bathroom, closed the door and started to brush my teeth. The faucet ran as I stared up at the boy in the mirror. Auburn hair, round face, small nose, green eyes, disgusting. I looked like a girl. my body was disgusting and tainted, and I have to live with it.

The boy in the mirror looked back at me, his lime green eyes glared at me. Wait. Who was his boy in the mirror? Was this the Aiden that I want to be? He looked different. He looked happy and carefree. This couldn't have been me. Same face, but it was different.. it was just different. I reached out to him, and he reached back. I touched the mirror, and he touched it aswell. His happy smile faded, and a look of despair and pure horror flooded his face. I pulled my hand back, and let it fall to my side. The pain in my head came back, as painful as ever. I bent over the faucet in pain as I held my head and screamed. My chest was tight. Too tight for me to breathe. Blood started to seep out of my skin, and I gasped in horror and pain.

I called out for my mother, and within a few minutes a figure had opened the door. It was a man. He hovered over me and watched as I cried out in pain and despair. I could feel my heart beat starting to slow, and I looked up and saw the boy in the mirror, staring at me from above, with a disproving look on his face. The figure grabbed my arm, and pulled me up to his height. I felt my shoulder starting to separate from my arm, and he kept pulling and pulling, until my shoulder and arm popped. I screamed out in agony as he started to run his fingers through my hair. I tried to get free of his grasp, but he grabbed my other arm and started to break it in multiple different spots. His face starred to appear. It was him. Him of all people. The person who had took my entire life. My rapist. 


End file.
